


Tragedy Begets Hope

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8292560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Spencer and the reader are awkward around each other, not admitting their mutual feelings. Only a life-altering scare convinces once to admit their feelings to the other.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	

“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer said, barely audibly as he passed you on the elevator. You were a secretary at the BAU and you’d only started recently. Plus, you were never really confident around men - being mousy and awkward left you feeling vulnerable, so when you started with the FBI you gravitated toward the ladies on the team. In the months since you’d started, you’d become pretty close with Penelope, but you were pretty graceless around the rest of the team, especially Spencer.

He was the type of man you’d always dreamed of, but you had no confidence at all since the implosion of your last relationship, so talking to him was out of the question. Last thing you wanted to do was sound like an idiot in front of one of the smartest people you’d ever come into contact with.

You smiled as best you could before shuffling off of the elevator, with your files and paperwork in hand, nearly dropping them as you lifted your hand in a shy wave. See, this is why we don’t interact with anyone, you thought to yourself. You were hopeless.

———————–

Spencer had been crushing hard on the new secretary ever since she started 4 months and 16 days ago. She was beautiful and sweet, and from what little interactions they’d had, she was funny too. On top of all that, she carried herself confidently, she very rarely seemed off-balance, at least to his eyes. 

He was always awkward with people in general, but especially around women. His hands would shake and sweat, he’d talk even faster than normal, spouting facts about what he happened to be talking, his eyes would dart anywhere and everywhere, never focusing on the person to which he was speaking, and all-in-all, he just felt like a bumbling idiot when he talked to a beautiful woman. But recently, Morgan had noticed Pretty Boy’s crush and had encouraged him to open up to her. He tried as best as he could, but whenever he looked at her the words in his head got jumbled up and fell out of his mouth in a way he hadn’t intended.

One day he’d try to tell her how he felt - that she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met. But for now, his brain was insisting that he sound like a complete buffoon.

———————–

For the last week, you had been on high alert. You had gone into Hotch’s office and confided in him that you were being threatened from an anonymous number. Only texts, but they were explicit. The person knew where you lived and worked and said you were never going to feel safe again.

“Agent Hotchner,” you stammered, scared out of your mind.

He looked your way with a comforting smile, “It’s okay, Y/N, and please call me Hotch.”

“Okay, Hotch, the thing is…I think I know who the person on the other side is,” you stuttered, unlocking your phone to show him. “I think it’s my ex. He was abusive and I left him, but he wasn’t happy about it and I’m honestly afraid he’s going to hurt me.”

Once you told him, he immediately told the rest of the team, who’d all decided that all of their free team would be spent trying to figure out who was doing this and why. The problem was…he wanted to bring you into the conference room and tell the rest of the team about your ex, considering you were nearly positive it was him.

“Great,” you thought, “I have to stand in front of everyone and talk about how my ex used to beat me.”

As you walked into the conference room shaking, you tripped, almost falling on the floor before Spencer caught you. You looked up to try and thank him, but you’d just started to cry and he looked away and backed up, seemingly trying to give you space.

“Take your time, Y/N,” Hotch said, “But tell as all you can about these texts. When are you getting them? Where are you when you’re getting them? The actual messages themselves and why you think it’s your ex that’s sending them.”

You crossed your arms in front of you, suddenly feeling cold. Penelope came up beside you and wrapped her arms around you, stroking your hair. “We’re gonna find whoever this is, Y/N.”

You took a deep breath and tried recounting your relationship as best you could. “I’ve been getting these texts at all hours of the day for the last week, but my apartment seems to be where most of them have been coming in. Pretty much all of them say that it’s not if but when they’re going to come for me, that I’ll never feel safe again, and ‘I know where you live.’ One of them also said ‘You’ll be sorry.’ That’s what makes me think it’s my ex.” As you spoke, you looked at the faces of your colleagues, hoping beyond all hope that they could find out who this person was and stop them. If anyone could, it was them. No matter how hard you tried though, you couldn’t seem to make eye contact with Spencer. For some reason, you felt like he would see you differently - weak, feeble. You were already awkward as all hell, so the object of your affections thinking of you as weak was another hit to your pride. “He was abusive,” you muttered, “emotionally and physically, and my parents helped get me out of the relationship, but I wouldn’t put it past him to track me down. He was a horrible person.”

“It’s going to be okay, Y/N,” Derek said, standing up from the table, “we’re going to find whoever this is.” As the rest of the team shuffled out of the room, they all gently patted your shoulder, trying to comfort you in the only way they knew how, but Spencer had immediately pushed past you - not saying a thing.

———————–

The thought of someone abusing Y/N had filled Spencer with rage. After she’d recounted her past with him, he sped out of the room, seething thinking about how someone could do that to someone they claimed to love. 

For the last few days, the team had used all of their free time to try and track down who was harassing Y/N, but they’d had next to no luck, as the texts came from a burner. They’d been able to get records of who bought the burners recently, but most of them, obviously, paid with cash.

When Spencer looked at the clock, he had a bad feeling. It was nearly 10 AM and Y/N still hadn’t shown up to work. In her 5 months with the BAU, she had never been late - ever. He walked into Hotch’s office and asked if he could drop by her apartment, see how she was doing. Hotch had no issues, so Spencer left, hoping he was just overreacting.

———————–

His worst fears had been realized as he walked up the stairs to Y/N’s apartment. The door was ajar, pillows and cushions strewn about the floor, glass had been broken and lamps had been knocked over.

“Hotch,” Spencer barked into the phone, “Something’s happened. Her apartment is destroyed.” As he walked across the floor, he saw her phone and picked it up, noticing the text on the screen as it unlocked - It’s him. “It is her ex, Hotch,” Spencer rambled in a panic, “she managed to say it’s him on the phone before dropping it.”

Her ex may have made a smart move buying the burner phone, but he had attacked her in broad daylight. “We should see if anyone has noticed a disturbance in the area,” he said, knowing Penelope would be on the other line to check it out. “If she knew to send us a message, then she’d know to make a scene.”

“I’m on it!” Penelope screamed.

As Spencer made his way back to the BAU, he vowed to himself that he’d tell Y/N how he felt, if they were lucky enough to find her alive.

———————–

You woke up startled. You remembered seeing his face and feeling your heart almost jump out of your chest. The mess in your apartment crossed your mind as your vision sharpened, and then you remembered trying to text a message on your phone. You could only hope that whoever found your apartment would see the message and know what it meant.

The ropes were cutting into your wrists, but you kept trying to loosen them. Your asshole ex didn’t know you’d started carrying two phones since you got the job at the BAU. The one on your apartment floor was your personal phone, but your professional one was still on you - you could feel it in your pocket, you just had to get to it.

“You shouldn’t have left me,” you heard him growl from the shadows, “but now you never will. I can promise you won’t be leaving here alive.”

As his voice sent chills up your spine, you prayed the team could find you in time. This was not how you wanted to go out. Your ex walked in and out of the room, threatening you both verbally and physically. But he was cocky - he didn’t keep a constant eye on you, so once you’d loosened the ropes, you were able to turn on your other phone. Now hopefully Penelope found out that you had two phones registered in your name. It was probably your only hope.

———————–

“Guys!” Penelope screamed from her office, “I’ve got something!”

Everyone ran in, desperate for a lead. It shouldn’t have been - but when it was one of their own it was always worse. “Y/N has two phones!” she said excitedly.

“What does that mean for us?” Spencer asked, wondering how that could help them at all.

“Under normal circumstances it probably wouldn’t” she said, turning in her chair toward the computer screen, “But she apparently has it on her right now, because I put an alert on it and it just turned on.”

“So you triangulated? You know where she is?” Hotch asked, halfway out of the office already.

“Sent to your PDAs,” she said hurriedly, “Now go get her back.”

———————–

It was going to be too late. He wasn’t going to wait much longer. You could feel it in the air. He had deteriorated since you’d left - his drinking had gotten worse, so his behavior was even more erratic. The knife he’d been brandishing in front of your face filled you with fear. It was just about the worst way to go in your opinion.

You’d been brave enough to leave him, so you were determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you scared. He walked up slowly, gliding the back end of the knife against your throat, placing himself behind you. You took a deep breath in and closed your eyes, ready to die, when you heard the thud of the door being kicked down.

“Put the knife down!” Derek bellowed, as the rest of the team followed behind, weapons trained at his head. He’d lifted you up by your hair, so there was almost no possibility of a clean shot. Derek and Spencer were the only two you could see being as restrained as you were; Derek was determined, but Spencer looked scared.

As the knife twitched at your neck, you thought ‘This is the end. There’s no clean shot.’ But Hotch had gotten a clean angle and before you knew it, the wall to your left had been sprayed with blood. You collapsed on the floor and Spencer ran to you, enveloping you in his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. You nodded - you were shaken, but physically ok.

“Thank god,” he said, taking you by surprise as his lips crashed into yours. “I thought I was never going to have the chance to tell you how I felt.”


End file.
